Review:
Charlie Chaplin’s notorious critique of American materialism, media, and politics — filmed in London during his political exile — remains a bitter, occasionally spot-on, but rarely genuinely funny film. Chaplin is unrepentant in his skewering of our nation’s worst tendencies, satirizing topics as diverse as “reality T.V.” (years before it existed), progressive education, and Americans’ fascination with royalty — in this respect, he’s to be applauded. As a narrative, however, A King in New York doesn’t really satisfy; about midway through, once the plot becomes more “serious” in its attempt to nail the absurdity of McCarthyist witch-hunts, the overall tone of the picture becomes far too solemn and didactic. And while Chaplin’s son Michael is appropriately intense playing the son of martyred Rosenberg stand-ins, it’s literally painful to watch his performance during the school visit scene, when he can be seen silently mouthing Chaplin Sr.’s words whenever he’s not talking himself (no future actor, he). Despite its mixed-bag blessings, however, all film fanatics should at least be familiar with this late-life entry in Chaplin’s career.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

Dawn Addams inserting obvious commercials into a “surprise” televised dinner party for King Shahdov

Must See?
Yes, but only for its historical notoriety. It’s inexplicably labeled a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book (?).